It had been a long day, to say the least. And while things hadn't exactly gone off without a hitch, she was refusing to dwell on the few negative aspects of the day. It wasn't hard to do, since the good far outweighed the bad.
After all the waiting and anticipation, it was official.
Buffy and Spike were husband and wife.
"Bloody…sodding…key. Doesn't it know it fits in the buggering lock?"
With a soft smile on her face, Buffy placed her hand over his, steadying his tremors. The key slipped into the lock then, and with a turn, it was open.
Buffy started to step inside, but Spike stopped her. She frowned. "What?"
"Tradition, luv," Spike reminded her before he scooped her up into his arms. "No crossing of any thresholds for you unless I'm carrying you. The last thing we need is to ask for bad luck."
Buffy laughed as he kicked the door shut, locking it back one handed before carrying her towards the suite's bedroom.
"So I'm guessing we're not going to take it slow, look around the hotel room we bilked the Council out of big piles of money for," Buffy teased, knowing good and well what the answer was—and having no actual complaints.
"Later," Spike replied, his voice almost a growl. "You've been my wife for hours, and I've yet to exercise any of these husbandly rights I supposedly have now."
They'd debated for a while about whether or not they'd spend their wedding night at home and leave for their honeymoon the next day or it they'd leave the reception and go straight for the Council jet—even if that would bring them to their destination late in the evening.
Ultimately, they'd decided on the second option. While it meant a delay in the consummation of their marriage, both of them agreed they didn't want to have to get out of the bed for quite some time once they got in.
And two weeks at a seaside resort in Greece with nothing to worry about but each other should give them plenty of that.
One thing they'd agreed on right off when planning the honeymoon was they wanted to be somewhere with lots of sun.
As set on one-track as Spike's mind tended to be at times like this, Buffy had expected him to toss her on the bed and immediately pounce. However, he'd instead laid her down gently, her hair fanning out over the plush pillows.
He then clicked on the lamp beside the table, turning it down to allow only a dim light in the room—just enough to illuminate Buffy. She'd changed into a simple, white shift dress to travel in, and as Spike watched her situate herself on the snow-white hotel sheets, she looked very much like the bride she was.
Gorgeous, pure—his.
Buffy held out her arms to him. "Come here. I want to touch you."
Spike moved over her then, sinking into her embrace as he kissed her, moaning into her mouth. His whole body trembled, the act they were about to perform seeming to suddenly take on a new meaning in his mind.
He'd been with Buffy so many times he'd lost count, but now was still a first time.
The first time he was her husband; the first time she was his wife.
"I'm nervous," Buffy admitted when they broke apart for air. "Why am I nervous?"
"It's all right, pet. I am, too," Spike told her. He looked at her face for a moment, searching her eyes. "Do you need to slow down?"
Buffy shook her head. "No. I want this—I want you. But it feels like something's changed."
"Something has changed, pet," Spike replied as he smoothed her golden hair away from her face. "But it's a good change."
She smiled sweetly at his words and ran her own hand over his cheek. "It is, husband."
A grin broke across Spike's face, wonderment and elation playing onn his features at the sound of one word alone. "I can still hardly believe that's what I am to you."
"You are. And me, I'm your wife."
Something flashed in Spike's eyes, the wonderment suddenly replaced by raw hunger. "My wife," he repeated, the second word coming out as a growl.
Buffy shook, her nervousness disappearing with a rush of moisture between her legs. She loved it when he was possessive, when he lost himself completely to the need to have her.
So she spurred him on.
"I am now. For better or worse, 'til death do us part, I'm yours." She kicked off her sandals, then brought her leg up to massage his calf with her bare foot. "Lay claim to me, Spike. Mark me as your wife."
He growled low in his throat, his eyes flashing yellow briefly, reminding her that even if he may not be the vampire he once was, a bit of demon still resided in her husband. His mouth descended, and he kissed her with bruising force before he trailed to her neck, nipping at the skin against her thundering pulse.
Buffy moaned, thrusting her hips as she begged him for more between pants and gasps.
Suddenly, Spike moved down her body, pushing up the bottom of her dress roughly before tearing her panties away. Buffy cried out at the first touch of his mouth to her pussy, the guttural noises he made as he ate her out driving her almost as crazy as his tongue.
Beyond Spike, Buffy had never had a lot of experience in this area, but she had a feeling most men didn't quite do it with the relish he did. Spike had told her more than once he loved the taste of her, insisting, when he'd been a true vampire, that her juices were as sweet as her blood—if not sweeter.
His newly-beating heart didn't seem to change his hunger for her, though.
She gasped as he shoved his long tongue inside of her, lapping at her inner walls as his nose bumped against her clit. It always amazed her that he could get his tongue to move like that, yet she didn't have much time to ponder it before she was screaming in pleasure, her nails tearing at the bed as her head thrashed from side to side.
Then he pulled up, three nimble fingers replacing his tongue as he moved up to lick roughly at her clit. His fingers curved up, finding just the right spot inside of her immediately, and Buffy keened as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.
He didn't slow his assault, didn't stop so he could move up and slide his cock inside of her, and Buffy sobbed with the almost-overwhelming assault to her nerve endings. She panted his name over and over again, her mind seemingly unable to remember anything existed but him.
It was too much.
She wanted more.
The last orgasm that roared through her made her hips shoot straight off the bed as she screamed loud enough to make herself hoarse. Spike bit down lightly on her clit, drawing out her release until she finally slumped to the bed, a sheen of sweat over her skin as she panted for air.
Spike pulled up, licking his lips, then smirked at her. "So, how am I doing at this husband stuff?"
Buffy swallowed. Did he expect an answer comprised of actual words, 'cause she couldn't give him one. She was lucky she managed a "Gah…"
"I'll take that to mean I'm doing a bang up job," Spike said with a wink.
"Got the 'bang' part right," Buffy thought with a giggle. She felt boneless, gloriously relaxed, all stress in her life forgotten for now. She forced her arm off the bed and pointed to the tent in Spike's trousers. "Want that now," she told him, a mischievous grin forming on her lips.
"More than happy to oblige, kitten," Spike told her with a grin of his own. He stood, staying away from her just long enough to strip off his clothes before he was on top of her again.
"Dress needs to come off," he murmured against her skin as he kissed her along her collarbone. Having the thin, white material bunched at her hips was not enough for him now.
"Zipper…back," she said, gasping as she thrust her hips and the head of his cock brushed against her sodden folds.
Spike reached behind her, cursing under his breath as he fumbled with the zipper. "Fuck it, I'll buy you a new one," he said before he ripped the dress from her body and tossed it to the floor.
Buffy thought she might be upset about how often he seemed to ruin her clothes if she didn't find it so damn sexy. She bought new underwear so much she was pretty sure the store clerks talked about her, but for Spike, she'd buy a dozen new pairs a day.
"No bra, good," he said as he moved to her breasts, laving a nipple with his tongue. "I hate those bloody clasps. Made to taunt men, they are." His teeth began to nip at the soft mound of flesh, and Buffy whimpered, her body seeming to forget she'd had multiple orgasms only a few minutes earlier.
"Spike…inside, inside now," she gasped. "Have to…need to…oh, Spike."
Spike pulled back up and looked into her eyes, the swirl of emotions he could see there these days never failing to amaze him. Love, lust, awe… She felt so much for him, and he knew it. He knew.
It was hard to believe sometimes that it wasn't all a dream. That he wasn't still cold and alone, perhaps back in his old crypt where so many nights all he'd had was dreams of her.
But it was real. Buffy was there, beneath him, waiting for him to make love to her because she loved him. One thought pushed forward to the front of his mind, threatening to overwhelm him.
Buffy was his wife.
He reached out and stroked her cheek, feeling as the band on his left ring finger slid across her skin.
Never again could anyone try to claim what they had wasn't real.
He'd stopped, his erection poised to enter her, yet still outside of her body, and Buffy couldn't wait any longer. "Please…I need you, Spike. I need…" She swallowed and turned her gaze up to meet his.
"I need my husband."
Her words made a shiver pass through him, and with a groan, Spike sank inside of her. Buffy gasped, her eyes rolling back at the feeling of being so completely full. There wasn't a part of her he couldn't touch.
"Oh, Buffy," Spike moaned as he began to thrust, his strokes growing deeper as Buffy moved her legs up to wrap around his back. "My love… My goddess… My wife."
"Yes, yes," Buffy chanted over and over again, tremors of pleasure rippling over her. Past this bed, past him, the edges of the world blurred into nothingness, until all she knew was joy.
It hadn't had the makings of a lengthy coupling, and when Spike felt the first stirrings of release, he didn't fight them. They'd have time for leisure later, but now, tonight, it was about something else entirely.
Buffy had said it herself earlier. He was laying his claim, marking her as hers once and for all.
After tonight, there would be no more running, no more hiding. She'd be his completely, as he'd always been hers.
After tonight, they would truly be forever.
Buffy moaned his name, a deep, almost animalistic sound before she cried out in heartfelt release. Her inner muscles squeezed him tightly, urging him along, and Spike followed, her name a bellow from him.
He rolled as he collapsed, taking her with him so she was cradled against his chest. Her hand stroked his skin, fingers trembling, and he captured it, lifting it to his lips to kiss each of the slender digits before he let it go again.
They lay in silence, what hung between them now too deep, too much for words. Spike's hand came down to graze over her belly, the beginnings of a swell growing there now, and she didn't have to question was he was thinking.
Buffy placed her hand over his and traced his wedding ring with her finger.
That, folks, is the end of this fic (though not the series). For more of the series, please go here: http://dark-desire.org/blood/subpages/post-chosen.html I'll be adding more fics as I get them written.
Thank you for everyone who kept reading this story, even with all the breaks I had to take. Your words of encouragement really meant a lot to me, and I hope you enjoyed it!